


Cram Session

by tobiyos



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Kinda, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding, Semi-Public Sex, top! mishima
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:46:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25359409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tobiyos/pseuds/tobiyos
Summary: “Wait,” he says again, voice still kind of faint to his own ears. Amamiya is kissing higher up his neck, tilting his face sideways with the press of his bony nose to bite in the skin just below his ear. “Leblanc, the windows. W-what if Sakura-san comes back?”Amamiya hums against his neck, and plants one more soft kiss on Mishima’s rapidly heating skin. “He probably won’t.”“Probably?”
Relationships: Kurusu Akira/Mishima Yuuki/Sakamoto Ryuji, Mishima Yuuki/Persona 5 Protagonist, Mishima Yuuki/Persona 5 Protagonist/Sakamoto Ryuji, Mishima Yuuki/Sakamoto Ryuji, Persona 5 Protagonist/Sakamoto Ryuji
Comments: 1
Kudos: 71





	Cram Session

**Author's Note:**

> For Futaba's sake, I hope she doesn't still have Leblanc bugged

Mishima forgets Sakamoto is sitting across from him until he tips his head back and groans.

“Duuude,” he whines, both hands planted flat on the table like he’s testing how hard it’ll be to push over. “This is so boring!”

Amamiya doesn’t look up from his work, just flips a page in the notebook he’s reading from before leaning over to check if his notes match Mishima’s. “You were the one who said you needed help studying.”

Sakamoto groans again and slides down into the side of the Leblanc booth he’s occupying on his own. “I _always_ need help studying. ‘S not like I ever do well on exams with it.”

“You’d do well if you studied.”

Mishima can’t help the little snicker that escapes from him, turning his head so he doesn’t have to endure the glare Sakamoto shoots his way.

Amamiya nods, apparently satisfied that everything matches up, and leans back with a brush of his hand against Mishima’s arm. Mishima’s heart gives a little flutter in his chest that he has some sense to be embarrassed about, like he’s got some silly little schoolyard crush. He turns to Sakamoto instead of feeding into the little glance Amamiya sends his way. “Do you even care all that much about doing well?” He asks. Across the booth, Sakamoto has sunk down so far into his seat that Mishima can only see about half of his face peeking out over the edge of the table.

The thin line of Sakamoto’s mouth twists into a grimace. “’Course I care! Nobody _tries_ to fuck up their exams. Plus,” he adds under his breath, “Makoto would kick my ass if I failed.”

“Then study,” is Amamiya’s breezy reply. He’s looking back and forth between two pages of his notebook, eyebrows slightly furrowed. Mishima wants to reach over and smooth out the lines on his forehead before he realizes _hey_ , they’re kind of dating now. Why can’t he? Amamiya stiffens up for a moment when Mishima’s thumb meets his skin but settles when his fingers push the tension out of his face. “Thanks,” he says with a sigh.

“I _want_ to!” Sakamoto protests, and Mishima feels his foot knock against Mishima’s leg under the table. His face shifts into a pout, and he leans up far enough to rest his cheek in his hands. “Renren, you’re top of the class. Don’t you have, like, smart kid tips?”

Amamiya sighs and puts his pen down. There’s a small, affectionate smile on his mouth, even if his words retain the same mildly annoyed tone. “ _Ryuji_ ,” he starts, sickly sweet, “I tell you my ‘smart kid tips’ and then you don’t use them. I cannot help you get top scores in two days.”

Sakamoto’s pout deepens. “I wanna break up.”

“No.”

Leblanc is empty, but the loud noise Sakamoto growls out makes Mishima flinch, just because he knows it would get them kicked out if Sakura-san was still in. “You’re a terrible boyfriend.” He grumbles. “You too,” he says in Mishima’s direction.

“Love you,” is Amamiya’s reaction, followed swiftly by Mishima’s complaint of “What did I do?”

Amamiya kicks Sakamoto under the table gently when he sticks his tongue out at Mishima. “And shut up. Some of us are trying to focus.”

Surprisingly, Sakamoto listens to him, and the noise in Leblanc dwindles down to the humming of various machinery and the occasional sound from outdoors. Yongen-Jaya is relatively quiet on evenings like these, right before the weekend gets into full swing, sunset dripping through the window.

There’s a sound at one point that’s like Sakamoto getting up to wander around, but he seemingly returns to his seat without incident within a few minutes.

Mishima is leaning over to ask Amamiya a question when something slides up the back side of his calf. He can’t help the way he yelps, knocking his shoulder against Amamiya’s gently. Amamiya looks startled out of his concentration, but after he straightens his glasses and glances over to Sakamoto’s seat, he frowns. “Ryuji,” he says, in a voice that sounds like this isn’t quite unfamiliar territory.

Mishima, however, is very surprised to slide a little further back in the booth and catch the bright yellow of Sakamoto’s bleach blonde hair shining out from between his legs. “What are you doing?” Mishima hisses, hand moving down to push Sakamoto back by the forehead.

Sakamoto gives him a smile that’s more of a wicked gleam of his teeth than anything, before he leans in to rest his head on top of Mishima’s thigh. He buries his face near the bunched-up fabric where Mishima’s uniform pants meet his leg. “Oh, come on, Yuuki. Let me have some fun while you two are busy getting off on studying.”

Amamiya leans over to hook his chin on Mishima’s shoulder. “He gets like this a lot during cram sessions,” he says, low into Mishima’s ear.

“Really?” Mishima squeaks incredulously.

“Oh, please,” Sakamoto says, with a roll of his eyes and a hand that reaches up and pushes Mishima’s legs further apart. “It ain’t like you don’t like it.”

Amamiya’s face moves closer in to Mishima’s neck. “Not what I said.”

“Wait, wait!” Mishima says, pushing harder against Sakamoto’s forehead. He pauses, but there’s a little pout on his lips that Mishima _doesn’t_ want to admit is really cute. “Unlike the two of you, I actually need to keep my grades up, and I’m not some low grade genius who can do it without studying.”

He feels more than sees Amamiya press his nose into the burning skin of Mishima’s neck, the little huff of laughter that slides against his skin as Amamiya hears him say _genius_. “I’ll help you review after. And I’ll teach you anything you don’t know.”

“You _guys!_ ” He’s trying to keep the whine out of his voice, but the horny teenager in Mishima is very easily overpowering the studious one. There’s a very obvious choice between staring at notes he doesn’t even remember taking for the next couple hours or and letting his two— _two!_ —gorgeous boyfriends have their way with him, but he _has_ to resist a little bit, right?

Sakamoto is reaching forward with a hand to tug at the zipper of his pants, but his eyes are fixed very firmly on Mishima’s face, watching for a reaction. He’s so _nice_ and Mishima knows that if he really wanted Sakamoto to stop he _would_ , but _god-_ “Please?” Sakamoto says quietly, a little breathless.

Mishima sighs but slides his hand down from Sakamoto’s head towards his mouth anyway, pausing to press at the seam of Sakamoto’s lips with his thumb. “Your hair feels like shit,” he murmurs, and Sakamoto nips at the pad of finger with the points of his teeth. He’s smiling.

Amamiya presses a warm, open mouthed kiss to the skin of Mishima’s neck, just above the turtleneck, high enough it’ll be impossible to cover if he marks. Mishima has a sneaking suspiscion that Amamiya likes kissing him in places other people can see, like he’s weirdly territorial over him. It makes something warm and kind of fluttery curl at the bottom of his stomach.

Mishima presses his thumb further into Sakamoto’s mouth, presses down on his tongue, shivers when Sakamoto makes a soft sound that vibrates through his hand, brown eyes dark under the cover of his eyelashes.

“Wait,” Mishima says again, voice still kind of faint to his own ears. Amamiya is kissing higher up his neck, tilting his face sideways with the press of his bony nose to bite the skin just below his ear. “Leblanc, the windows. W-what if Sakura-san comes back?”

Amamiya hums against his neck, and plants one more soft kiss on Mishima’s rapidly heating skin. “He probably won’t.”

“ _Probably?_ ”

Huffing slightly, Amamiya leans away from Mishima’s neck to bracket his arms over his notes again. He shrugs. “Isn’t like we haven’t gotten caught before.”

Sakamoto pulls away a little bit, just enough to get Mishima’s finger out of his mouth. He’s reaching up again, trying to get Mishima’s underwear far enough below his hips that he can access his dick. “Would you stop bringing that up? Boss chewed me out for it for like weeks after it happened.”

“I’m just saying,” Amamiya throws a glance in Mishima’s direction, “Ryuji knows better than anyone not to get caught.”

“Damn straight!” Is Sakamoto’s response from under the table, followed immediately by the feeling of his mouth on Mishima’s thighs. Ryuji’s teeth are sharp and he know it, nips lightly at the skin of Mishima’s leg through his pants.

“O-okay,” Mishima says shakily, the hand he had near Sakamoto’s mouth moving up to thread through his hair. Sakamoto’s eyes shine as he digs his teeth in a little bit harder.

There’s some shifting under the table as Sakamoto gets settled, a hand braced against Mishima’s thigh as he licks a tentative stripe up the underside of Mishima’s erection. Mishima can’t really catch the sound he makes in his throat, the little _ah_ going unthwarted into the space between them. In the month or so since the three of them have started dating, Mishima have let Sakamoto and Amamiya encourage the little sounds he makes when they get him under their hands, and it’s hard to reign his reactions back in even when Mishima knows Amamiya is at least _pretending_ to study.

The hand Mishima doesn’t have buried in Sakamoto’s hair comes up so he can cover the hiccup of a noise Sakamoto drags out of him when he laves his tongue over the head of Mishima’s dick. Sakamoto makes a noise, a barely there huff that puffs out against Mishima’s sensitive skin that makes him tighten the hand he has in his hair. He secretly thinks Sakamoto is pretty like this, hair a little more fucked up than usual, eyes sliding between Mishima’s eyes and the loose hand he has wrapped around the base of Mishima’s cock.

Mishima’s gaze slides over to Amamiya, still working diligently, his pen’s scratch the only sound to undercut Mishima’s shallow breathing. He looks relatively focused, though one of his lips is pulled between his teeth as he gnaws on the skin there. Mishima likes how red his mouth is.

“Yuuki,” Sakamoto chastises, sounding teasing and smug despite the fact that he’s got his face between Mishima’s hard-on and his thigh. It draws Mishima’s eyes back to him, his gaze a little glassy. “You’re not distracting Ren from working, are you?” Mishima looks over to where Ren is going over notes diligently, and then back down at Sakamoto. He shakes his head. “Good boy,” Sakamoto says, and fits his lips around the head of Mishima’s erection.

Mishima shudders and tightens the hold he has on Sakamoto’s hair. It’s getting harder to control his breathing as Sakamoto’s mouth slides slower down his length, the heat of his mouth _ntense_ in a way Mishima doesn’t know how to get used to, eyes never quite leaving their fixed position on Mishima’s face. His eyes are so bright from where the light is managing to reach the space under the table, cheeks flushed. Mishima knows Sakamoto actually _likes_ giving blowjobs, despite Mishima’s initial aversion to them for fear of being shitty at _getting_ blowjobs, but Sakamoto has worn him down, ultimately.

Sakamoto’s mouth slides lower, his cheeks starting to squish up at the edges from where his jaw’s spread wide. Sakamoto swallows around his dick, and Mishima tips his head back, knocks his shoulders against the top of the booth, trying to get a hold on his breathing.

Sakamoto pulls off of him, just to fit his hand where his mouth was, and bite down into the skin of Mishima’s thighs again. “ _Yuuki_ ,” he says, high and heady, Mishima’s first name drawn out long. “’s it good?”

“It’s good, you’re so good,” Mishima assures quietly, hand moving to trail the edge of Sakamoto’s jaw. Sakamoto hums as Mishima pushes his fingers past his lips, his tongue darting between his fingers, spit warm and slick.

Mishima pushes his fingers further back in his throat, just to see how Sakamoto reacts now, his jaw sensitive and lips shiny with spit, and is rewarded with a low groan and Sakamoto’s eyes fluttering shut. Mishima holds his jaw with one hand and slides his fingers over Sakamoto’s tongue with the other, watches the way his throat works. He’s making little noises in the back of his throat, vocal in a way only Sakamoto can be.

Sakamoto pulls his face from Mishima’s leg to slide his dick back down his throat, hand trying to push Mishima’s legs as far apart as they’ll go. His knee bumps against Amamiya, who takes his first moment in what feels like forever to look Mishima’s way.

For all his big talk, his face is flushed, mouth parted as he takes a few rather unstable breaths. Mishima thinks he looks wrecked to hell and back for someone who hasn’t even been _touched_ , and barely has enough coordination to get a hand around the back of Amamiya’s neck and pull him in to kiss him.

Sakamoto whines when he pops off of Mishima’s dick. “Aw, come on, no kisses for Mr. Studious.”

Amamiya pulls back from the kiss only to look down at Sakamoto and smile. “Aren’t you a little too busy to be criticizing me, delinquent boy?”

The noise Ryuji makes in return is little more than an indignant _hmpf!_ before he leans forward and pokes his head up past Mishima’s hips. “Hey,” he says, voice a little rough and even more breathless, like he’s been doing sit ups for the last ten minutes instead of giving head. Mishima looks down at him. Sakamoto’s eyes are half-lidded and hazier than they were a few minutes ago. He shifts around a little bit. “Lemme ride you.”

Mishima jumps a little, and nearly bangs his knee against the table. “Wh- You- What about Sojiro-san?” He feels a little hysteric, because his dick and his brain are currently fighting over who is about to win this argument. It’s an uphill battle for a brain as arousal mushy as his currently is.

“Probably not coming back,” Amamiya supplies again, with another nonchalant shrug.

“And if he does?” Mishima thinks his voice is approaching shriek level, but Amamiya and Sakamoto are definitely not making this easy on him.

“He won’t, promise,” Sakamoto says, and presses a kiss to the little place where Mishima’s shirt has ridden up. “Please?”

Mishima feels his defenses melt away because it’s not like he actually _wants_ to say no. Not really.

 _“_ Fine _,”_ is barely out of his mouth before Amamiya is leaning in to kiss him again, and the pressure of Sakamoto’s body against his legs slithers away.

When Amamiya pulls away, it’s to Sakamoto throwing a leg over Mishima’s lap, one hand resting firmly on Mishima’s shoulder, the other reaching down between Sakamoto’s legs to line Mishima up with his ass.

“H-hey!” Mishima stutters, noticing that Sakamoto isn’t wearing any pants, like _at all_ , and he’s way too hard to have just been sucking Mishima off. “Don’t, uh, don’t you need to… prepare?”

Mishima catches the eye roll as Sakamoto sinks down a little, and Mishima hisses as he enters Sakamoto, his dick giving a little jerk. “Dude, I was more than a little busy while I was under the table.” Mishima groans when Sakamoto bottoms out, feels the shiver that wracks through Sakamoto under his fingertips. There’s goosebumps rising anywhere Mishima can touch. Sakamoto makes a low sort of growling noise.

He’s _really_ fucking warm, and Mishima holds onto his hips and prays he doesn’t move, because his guts also kind of got a vice grip on Mishima’s dick, and a lot of things are leading towards him coming fast enough for Sakamoto to be complaining about it for a few days at least.

Mishima has only topped a few times while the three of them were together, but he still can’t believe how _warm_ Mishima is seated fully inside him. Sakamoto is diligently remaining still, though he’s panting through wet, parted lips, and Mishima wishes for once he were a little taller, because he’s a bit too far up to kiss without some major maneuvering.

Sakamoto rolls his hips once, and both him and Mishima shake, Mishima leaning forward to bury his face in Sakamoto’s chest.

“You’re a fff—“ Mishima groans. “You have to give me some warning.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sakamoto says, and though he sounds dismissive, Mishima knows they’re in the same boat. He thinks that if he put his hand on Sakamoto right now, he’d probably come within seconds. Sakamoto swears.

Amamiya slides closer, just enough to be able to kiss Sakamoto’s shoulder, and then Sakamoto is moving again, panting out their names a few times. He’s going slow, trying to stave off the orgasm Mishima can see in the way he’s gnawing on his lips. Him and Amamiya have the same tells but Sakamoto is much more over the top about it, probably biting down on his mouth so hard he’s broken the skin. Dizzily, Mishima thinks he’d like to taste the blood in Sakamoto’s mouth.

With a practiced snap of Mishima’s hips, Sakamoto keens, arms wrapping tight around Mishima’s neck. Mishima thinks this might be heaven.

“H-hold on,” Sakamoto says, and Mishima looks up to see him and Amamiya with their foreheads pressed together. “Or don’t. N-no, wait, I need a minute, or- ah!” Mishima holds Sakamoto’s hips and pulls him down swiftly, watches the way Sakamoto’s mouth falls open around his name.

“Too much for you to handle?” Amamiya asks and throws an arm behind Mishima’s head. “Need to go back to studying?”

“ _Fuck_ no,” Sakamoto groans, and buries his face as best he can in Amamiya’s shoulder. Mishima feels Sakamoto start to move his hips in earnest, dragging his body up Mishima’s length slowly. “Studying’s for n-nerds, like, _ngh,_ like y-you guys.”

“Huh?” Mishima asks, sinking his teeth into Sakamoto’s neck. “Say that again, couldn’t quite hear you the first time.”

“A couple-a _nerds_ ,” Sakamoto gasps, rolling his hips forward into Mishima once, then again. Mishima feels knuckles brush against the front of his stomach, and knows Ren has a hand on Sakamoto.

“Hmm,” Amamiya hums. “Maybe you could remember the material if we studied like this more. How about it? Want me to run some vocabulary by you?”

Ryuji makes a noise like he’s been punched and tosses his head back when Mishima pulls down on his hips just right, snaps his hips at the right angle. “ _Hey,_ ” Sakamoto wheezes, leaning over to grab Amamiya by the back of his hair. “Shut the fuck up.” He crushes their mouths together so hard it looks like it hurts, but Mishima has honestly seen them do worse to each other, so he tries to focus on not immediately coming so hard he blacks out.

Sakamoto is still rolling his hips, even as Mishima sees his tongue dart past Amamiya’s lips, and the little punctuated gasps he was giving up are being swallowed by Amamiya, and Mishima feels his thighs start to quiver below where Mishima is resting his hands. Amamiya’s eyes slide open and he looks straight at Mishima, who only gives a nod as he snaps his hips harder, makes Sakamoto have to pull back from Amamiya’s face so he can lean back against the table. “ _Fuck,_ ” he says, too loud, not loud enough, as Mishima meets Amamiya’s hand on Sakamoto’s dick. ”R-ren, Yuuki, I’m-“

Mishima thinks they have him just on the edge of coming when Ren’s phone starts ringing.

All movement immediately stops like someone has frozen them in place. Amamiya is the first to move, sticky hand pulling away from Sakamoto as he feels around for his phone on the table. He’s bringing the screen closer to his face—when did he take his glasses off? —and his mouth kind of twists into a half grimace. He mouths, _Sojiro_ , before Mishima and Ryuji make panicked eye contact.

“Get _off,_ ” Mishima hisses.

“ _Hey, kid. You still at Leblanc? Actually, scratch that, I know you’re probably still inside._ ” Mishima can barely hear the sound of Sakura-san’s voice from Amamiya’s phone over Ryuji’s quiet labored breathing. He shakes his head, and Mishima catches the little shit eating gleam in his eye at he leans down to try and suck a hickey into Mishima’s neck. His hips jerk, once, and Mishima uses the hand that _wasn’t_ on Sakamoto’s dick to cover his mouth.

“ _Emergency took longer than I thought it would. I know I told you to keep watch over the store, but you should close up for the night. And make sure that blond kid doesn’t cause any more trouble.”_

Mishima thinks it’s horribly ironic that Sakura’s sentence is punctuated by Sakamoto leaning back against the table, so he has more room to move, grinding down into Mishima’s lap like an _idiot._ Mishima can read it on his face. _Already got caught once, right?_

Mishima bites down on his hand a little harder as Amamiya makes a noise of agreement, and then hangs up. There’s a collective exhale, particularly from Mishima, before Sakamoto finally slows down his movements into a crawl. That’s to say, he doesn’t _stop_ moving, rocking his hips towards Mishima slowly.

“We should lock up, huh?” Sakamoto asks, a little calmer but definitely _too_ routine for a situation like this.

“Please,” Mishima begs, though it sounds a little more wrecked than he’d like it to. He’s unsurprised by the glance Sakamoto and Amamiya share.

“The sign _does_ say closed.” Amamiya grins, leaning up closer to Sakamoto’s mouth.

“It’s not like we weren’t worried about someone walking in before,” Sakamoto answers, with a smile of his own, and the barest hint of his nails that drag down Mishima’s chest.

Mishima flexes his hands on Sakamoto’s hips. He feels like he’s in for the long haul.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi okay I still really want to write for Maidwatch trio boys even though I have like. two other multi-chapter persona fics. but it's fine. Everythings fine.
> 
> Come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/tobi_yos), where I post art and talk (on occasion). Or just. Y'know. Bully me. That works too.


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